


You Haven't Changed

by Basalit_an



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1934745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basalit_an/pseuds/Basalit_an
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warden-Commander finds someone in Vigil's Keep's dungeon she thought was long dead. [Drabble]</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Haven't Changed

"Can I burn him?"

"No."

"Paralyze him?"

"Anders!"

"Hey! I was just asking."

The Warden-Commander Amell sighed and squeezed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. She had quite the headache on her hands, and Ander's antics weren't helping her. Of all of the wandering drunks in the world out there, it had to be that particular drunk that decided to wander into Vigil's Keep.

He'd been found in a stupor in the stables, half-buried in the hay for warmth. In his condition, he'd been barely recognizable, and the Wardens hadn't realized that they had thrown the once-honored Alistair Theirin into the dungeon.

Of course, most had thought he'd fallen in the battle of Denerim. The Warden-Commander herself had been almost certain of it. After their little disagreement at the Landsmeet over a certain teryn, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man, and he all but vanished after the battle.

So when she had gone into the dungeon to see what scoundrel had found his way into the keep, the Warden-Commander had nearly jumped out of her armor at the sight. He had since roused himself from his stupor and was sitting on the floor, leaning heavily against the cell's bars. He was dirty, his hair greasy and grown shaggy, his beard unkempt. It wasn't until he spoke that she realized who he was.

"I don't suppose you'll let me off with a warning, will you?" he asked. His voice, though now weaker than she remembered, was unmistakable.

Steeling herself and ignoring the plunging in her gut and the fluttering in her chest, the Warden-Commander spat, "I've half a mind to ship you off to the Free Marches."

He must have recognized her by voice as well, because he lifted his head to look her in the face. Those puppy-dog eyes of his were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, almost foreign. This certainly wasn't the heir to the throne she had known so long ago.

She could see her name on his lips, but before he could speak, she said, "I'll give you a few hours to clean up and get out of here. And I never want to see you here in this state again."

He held her gaze briefly before resting his head against the bars once again. "I see you haven't changed."

Narrowing her gaze, she couldn't help but bite, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

She could see his mouth curve into a humorless grin. "Well, you're just so…bossy!"


End file.
